


The Sound of Music

by snowkatze



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Heaven Wins the Apocalypse (Good Omens), Angst with a Happy Ending, Armageddon, Bittersweet Ending, Crowley Whump (Good Omens), First Kiss, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:36:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowkatze/pseuds/snowkatze
Summary: After Crowley and Aziraphale failed to stop Armageddon, the War broke out and the universe got destroyed. After the angels finally win the War, Crowley becomes a captive of Heaven. Who better to decide over his fate than his old adversary Aziraphale?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 149





	The Sound of Music

After the last second of time had run out, after the last star had burned out, after Beelzebub had died and all the walls of Hell had crumbled, the angel Aziraphale sat in a room without books. The angels, thankfully, had had just enough imagination to think them up – after all, rooms weren’t overly complicated, entirely made out of rectangles, which are entirely made out of straight lines. Had there been a curve or a wiggly line involved, the angels might not have managed it.

Aziraphale had only a moment to register the knock and feel a surge of dread before the door sprang open. Gabriel stepped in, as usual radiating confidence, but slower and with his shoulders down. His mouth was drawn in a serious line. The War had changed him, too. In time, he would go back to being his usual cocky, insufferable self – he had after the Fall. But for a while, the images of blood and death would haunt him the same way they did everyone else. It filled Aziraphale with a deep, petty satisfaction. Then Gabriel stepped aside, revealing who was coming in behind him – and Aziraphale’s heart stopped.

“Crowley.”

The word fled out of his mouth out of its own volition. Aziraphale had no say in it.

Crowley was –  _alive._ A captive of Heaven, despondent and worse for wear, but _alive._ It took Aziraphale a second to recognize the clothes. They were the same clothes Crowley had worn an eternity ago, when they had tried to stop Armageddon and failed. Now his jacket was torn at the seams, his shirt darkened with what might be dirt or blood.  His hands were bound behind his back. Two angels marched in after him, maybe to keep him in line.   
And then Crowley looked up, straight into Aziraphale’s eyes and Aziraphale had known what he’d done was unimaginably cruel and above all unforgiveable but suddenly he was confronted with the reality of how much. Crowley looked at him with eyes that would never forgive and Aziraphale absolutely deserved it.  _What have they done to you, he wanted to ask._ _ _What happened to you?_ _

__

Someone had extinguished the spark in Crowley’s eyes, someone had wiped the fond smile off his face and Aziraphale couldn’t bear the thought that it had been him, but it had been, it must have been. It could have been.

__

Crowley was broken and it was all Aziraphale’s fault, only his.

__

“Have you forgotten…” Crowley started darkly and for one terrifying moment Aziraphale knew that he had. He had forgotten. Drinking fine wine in the book shop, feeding ducks in St. James park, black and red scales, _we’re on out own side and I love -_ “…that there are other colors besides _white_? Seriously. White everywhere. You guys need to hire a better interior designer. White’s not even a color.”  
“Quiet,” Gabriel snapped. Crowley closed his jaw and Aziraphale could see him grinding his teeth. “Now, Aziraphale. Since you have proven yourself loyal to Heaven in the war, we provide you with a gift. Your _adversary_! From earth. Remember? Since Heaven gained victory over Hell, as well knew it would, because good always prevails, we are now dealing with the traitors. Like _this_ maggot right here.”  
Gabriel kicked Crowley’s legs and his knees buckled out underneath him. He struggled to regain his balance but didn’t get up again.

__

“I shouldn’t say maggot, should I? What was it? Snake? Both writhe and crawl on the floor, so it doesn’t really matter.”  
Crowley didn’t even look at him, didn’t lift his gaze from Aziraphale even once. Crowley had looked at Aziraphale without sunglasses before but never with such an intensity. Aziraphale couldn’t really read it. Was it an accusatory glare? It seemed to scream _I will never forgive you._

__

“Anyway,” Gabriel continued. “The demon Crowley, the beginning of sin. Now it’s time to end it. I’m sure you’ve been looking forward to this opportunity for a long time.”  
“A – a long time, yes,” Aziraphale quickly said.

__

“So, would you please punish the traitor, so that we can all get on with our day?”

__

“Certainly, yes, yes.”

__

There was a horrible pause, where Aziraphale’s mind reeled for something to say. Maybe Crowley could sense how uncomfortable he was, just like he always had, because he started to speak, as if to save Aziraphale.

__

“Ever heard of a color called Pansy Lavender?” A lazy grin spread across Crowley’s face. “I’m sure you’d love it. I did name quite a few paint colors back when earth was still a thing, did you know that?”  
Gabriel started scowling.  
“Pea Soup. Flesh. Candy Apple, classic.” Crowley winked.

__

“If you think you can talk your way out of this,” Gabriel said impatiently, “just remember that you’re in Heaven now. _Everything_ is Heaven now. There is literally nowhere for you to run.”

__

“You know what I call a place full of demons?” Crowley snarled, his head whipping around to Gabriel. “ _Hell_.”

__

“Those demons won’t be here for much longer.”

__

Gabriel’s mouth stretched into his Grin of Superiority.  Aziraphale found himself frozen, desperately trying to think of a way to get them out of this.  It hurt to see Crowley on his knees. It was wrong. Everything about this was wrong.  But Aziraphale needed to grit his teeth and pretend it was right.

__

__

***  
  
Crowley looked back at Aziraphale. He could barely take his eyes off him. It had been so long since he last saw him, so long since… Aziraphale raised his sword at him. Since Aziraphale had made clear once and for all that when push comes to shove, he would never choose Crowley. And push had come to shove. Hard. And he hadn’t chosen Crowley. (And Crowley shouldn’t have expected  him to . It was the insufferable  _hope_ that festered in his chest. It was quite unbecoming for a demon.)

__

“I’m just saying,” Crowley said and made his voice sound unaffected, casual and light and everything the feeling ins his chest was not. He had to keep talking, if only to spare Aziraphale from making excuses. If only to prolong what would be the inevitable culmination of a myriad of painful experiences. So, “I’m just saying,” Crowley just said, motioning to the white walls, “a little more love could have gone into -”  
In an instant, his mouth was burning, his tongue was on fire and Crowley opened his mouth as if to cough out a flame. It hurt to scream and Crowley screamed anyway. The flames went out but the pain didn’t go away, it stayed comfortably behind his teeth. His mouth felt raw and it would have been agonizing to move his tongue, if he had been able to produce a sound with its charred remains in the first place. Crowley only registered the blood when he felt it run down his chin. It must have been in his mouth, but he couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t feel _anything_ but the pain. Out of instinct, he pulled, intending to wipe the blood from his lips, but his hand wouldn’t come up. Of course it wouldn’t, it was shackled behind his back.

__

“That’s enough of that,” Gabriel said, who, with mild effort, had performed the miracle to burn Crowley’s tongue. “You’re a demon. You don’t know anything of love.”

__

The pain was liquid in his mouth. It seemed to come from somewhere deeper than that, his throat was alight with the memories and pleas he had hurled at God long ago. The War that had taken stage on the universe. The dying demons on the battlefield. He had Fallen with them. He had felt pain with them before. Until then, he hadn’t been able to imagine anything worse than the Fall. Now he knew better. There was no such thing as _the worst_. It was the kind of thing that added up. And added up.  
Aziraphale clutched his hands in front of him, so uncertain, so out of his element. He didn’t belong in a world full of nothing. Heaps of nothing. Nothing upon nothing upon more of nothing.  
There had been other paint colors Crowley had named. One had reminded him of Aziraphale and he’d called it ‘Love Letter’. (He had always been a bit of a fool.)

__

Gabriel had taken away Crowley’s only weapon now,  since the bindings on his wrist also prevented him from performing miracles,  and all that was left to do was look at Aziraphale. Feast on it,  just for a little bit, before it was all taken away.  His angel-white hair. His permanently old-fashioned clothes. He didn’t look happy, though, not one bit, which was quite the tragedy.

__

_ Just smile. Just let me see you smile. _

__

Crowley could feel the tears burning in the corners of his eyes. He tried to transport himself back to years and years ago into a bookshop that was long gone and had felt more like home than any of Crowley’s flats.  He tried to picture Aziraphale’s face, his soft smile and the exact arch of his eyebrows when he found something funny. He tried to banish the picture of Aziraphale with his sword raised from his mind.  
“ Well then,” Gabriel said, “get on with it.”  
Crowley looked at Aziraphale and tried to beg him.  _Don’t do anything stupid._ _Don’t say anything_ _too_ _cruel. Don’t bring your sword down after years and years.  
_ “This is between me and him,” Aziraphale said. “I want to… handle this in private.”  
Gabriel  gave a long-suffering sigh.   
“Alright. See that the matter is taken care of. Someone will come to check on you in… an undetermined amount of time.”  
As Gabriel left, Crowley faintly wondered if Aziraphale was going to be gentle about it.  _Grant me a bit of mercy, just a little bit._

__

He wanted to say something, but it wasn’t just his burned mouth stopping him. He wished desperately he could just swallow the pain down.

__

This couldn’t be easy on Aziraphale  either . He wasn’t a friend, no, Aziraphale had always vehemently denied it and proved in the end that those weren’t just empty words. But they’d known each other for a long time. He was Aziraphale’s somewhat begrudgingly accepted acquaintance. And even if it could never be affection or, Satan forbid,  _love, Aziraphale’s kindness and all around goodness would make this hard for him._

____

Aziraphale, gasping for words, stepped closer and even now, Crowley didn’t flinch away.  He clung to the same hope he’d hung onto for millennia.

____

_Just have mercy on me._

____

Stripped of his sunglasses and of his tongue, Crowley felt a breeze of wind could blow him over. A word could knock him unconscious. A tentative touch could break his neck. And Aziraphale – Aziraphale looked at him. And then his hand came up (came up like it had back then, with that blasted sword in his hand -) and Crowley’s breath caught in his throat, caught between the ridges of a throat raw from pleading and bleeding and bleeding. As he anticipated the blow, Crowley was struck with the thought that Aziraphale’s eyes were the same color as they had been so many years ago, but now they were much older. Years had passed, but an eternity seemed to live and upend itself in his irises again and again.

____

Crowley was waiting for judgment to be passed once again. Hadn’t he suffered enough? (Maybe he had. Maybe this would put an end to it.) And what would Aziraphale’s verdict be? Not good enough for an angel, that was obvious. Not bad enough for a demon. Too supernatural for a human. You are a nowhere-being, why don’t you  _go back there?_

_____ _

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and then the pain was – gone. He could feel his tongue mend itself.  (But the taste of pain lingered.) Aziraphale had given him back the ability to speak.  Why?  What did he want to hear?

_____ _

He tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound downright pathetic.

_____ _

“Angel,” he rasped out. It was as much a plea as an insult as a broken promise and Aziraphale’s face unraveled. Both of his eyes came loose and his jaw fell open. “Long time no see.”

_____ _

Maybe Aziraphale was eager to fulfill the command he had been given, to have this done and over with, at Heaven’s beck and call like he always had been, but maybe Crowley could tempt him to wait.  Crowley’s last temptation. He would pull out all the stops.

_____ _

“Lovely little room you’ve got here. Why, I would love to stay, thanks for asking. Just like old times.”  
“Don’t,” Aziraphale said quietly. Well. If he was so adamant on Crowley’s last minutes being unpleasant, so be it.

_____ _

And what could he even say? Aziraphale didn’t want to hear his begging or his apologies and certainly not his love confessions. All he could think of was the sword that hadn’t even been flaming at the time. Everything had gone to pieces within seconds and Crowley had lost track of Aziraphale in the crowd of angels descending from Heaven and demons rising from Hell. The knowledge  of how Aziraphale really felt about him  was like a rope around his neck, pulling tight.  Preventing any word from escaping. A trapdoor beneath his feet and Aziraphale at the lever. (Why did it have to be Aziraphale? Out of all the angels in Heaven, why him? The upside: he could see him one last time. The downside: it would hurt so much more. So much.)

_____ _

Crowley didn’t really regret having to die. Not really. He’d already lost the eternity he wanted. He had lost the most stubborn car that had ever existed, he had lost the rare but kind touches of Aziraphale, he had lost the stars, every single one of them. All that he had ever created and all he had ever dreamed of having was gone.

_____ _

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “I’m so sorry.”  
Of course. Of bloody course he was sorry. He was going to do it, he had to, but he would be very fucking sorry while he did it. Small mercies for that. (Maybe he had been sorry back then, with the sword.)

_____ _

And he could be angry if he wanted to, he could spit poison in Aziraphale’s face, he could accuse and shame and tear apart with words if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Not now. Not when he – they – only had so little time left. So instead, he said: “Don’t be.” It was so hard to summon the words. “I was the one who misjudged. Very badly misjudged.”  
God – Satan – Somebody, he’d thought it was real. He’d thought they really had something. Six thousand years of something. Aziraphale seemed frozen, in all his bloody sorriness and Crowley couldn’t even be mad.  
“You were a dream, Aziraphale,” Crowley admitted quietly. “I dreamed you up. An angel who could love a demon. Ha! They did always say I had too much… imagination.”  
He held Aziraphale’s gaze, even though he had long lost his sunglasses.   
“This is reality,”  he tried to say it full of bitterness, but it came out soft.

_____ _

“It’s horrible, is what it is. Horrible! What Gabriel just did -” Aziraphale seemed close to tears. “I would rip out Gabriel’s heart if I weren’t quite so sure he doesn’t have one.”

_____ _

“That’s not very angelic of you to say.” Crowley raised an eyebrow.  
“I don’t care for the bloody ‘being an angel’ business very much at the moment.”  
Ah. The War had changed Aziraphale, too, then, at least a little. He wouldn’t have been caught discorporated saying something like that years ago.

_____ _

“You should be careful to say that kind of thing,” Crowley reminded him halfheartedly. “You know what could happen.”  
“What, you mean I might _Fall_? Where to? There’s only heaven now.”

_____ _

“Hng. S’pose you’re right.”

_____ _

A ziraphale leaned forward, then. “Here, let me get that for you,” he said and miracled the restraints around Crowley’s wrists away. Astonished, Crowley moved his hands in front of himself, suddenly unsure what to do with them. Why had Aziraphale done that? With the restraints removed, he could perform miracles again,  at least those he still had the energy for . He could flee, if he wanted to. Well. Aziraphale probably knew that he didn’t.

_____ _

“Do get up, my dear, please,” Aziraphale said and touched Crowley’s elbow. _My dear_. Crowley didn’t know if he was still able to cope with being called that. Gingerly, he got to his feet.

_____ _

“Please listen. I’m sorry about… the last time we saw each other. I should never – I mean, of course, I never really intended to – it was just such a mess and I didn’t know what to do -”  
“It’s alright, angel,” Crowley said, an almost automatic response to seeing Aziraphale in distress at this point. “It’s not like you ever made me any false promises. You were always pretty clear about how we stood to each other. It was just me who was too -” hopeful, too optimistic, too in love “- well, _foolish_ to believe you.”

_____ _

“No. No, you really weren’t. Stop saying these things. Stop talking like -”  
“Like we were just acquaintances? That it never really meant anything? Believe me, I’ve had enough time to realize you never really liked me all that much. Threatening me with your sword was hint enough for me.”  
There had, of course, been many hints before that, very many, but Crowley had not exactly been quick on the uptake in that respect.

_____ _

“I was _there_ ,” Crowley continued, even though it hurt more than anything, “that was all. I was the only one who would stick around longer than a few decades. That’s why we were -” not friends, never friends “- acquaintances.”  
Aziraphale looked at him like Crowley had told him God was a vicious bastard. (A gaze Crowley was obviously familiar with.)

_____ _

“Really, I’m under no delusions there.” Not anymore, at least. “So don’t feel bad about it.”

_____ _

“I should never have denied you were my friend,” Aziraphale said, sounding suspiciously close to sniveling.

_____ _

“It’s who we are, didn’t you always say that?” Crowley said. Then, like an old inside-joke: “You should have smote – smitten – smited? - me the second you saw me.”  
“Don’t say that.”  
“Would’ve spared you a lot of trouble, I’m sure,” Crowley said wryly.

_____ _

Aziraphale gave him a long look and shook his head.

_____ _

“It would have been horribly boring.”

_____ _

“It would, wouldn’t it?”  
They shared a small, quiet smile. It was the kind of smile that could probably not bring governments or oppressive power structures down, but that could bring something like _our side_ back into existence.

_____ _

Suddenly, Crowely could feel the phantom touches of the last few years – the shoves, the scrapes, the pushing, the angels from earlier with their commanding fingers, forceful and rough and  _I hate you almost as much as I hate myself. He thought_ _ of angels with burning wings. He thought of drowning demons. He thought that falling is just like jumping without a goal in mind. And he wanted to reach out to Aziraphale as badly as he  had  ever wanted anything, with every cell of this body and  with every scale of his snake form, with every bit of his true essence. He coveted with the whole of his being and a little beyond. _

______ _ _

Then he saw the fond way Aziraphale looked at him, just the way he used to. Crowley’s hand moved on its own but stopped just short of Aziraphale’s face.  Then he realized that he had  almost  nothing left to lose,  only minutes. This was his last chance – so he touched Aziraphale’s jaw with trembeling fingers.

______ _ _

Aziraphale looked very scared.

______ _ _

“Shame there’s no beds in Heaven,” Aziraphale said, sounding the way he always did when he was trying to sound casual. “I could really use a lie-down.”

______ _ _

“You could always miracle one.”  
“It won’t be the same,” Aziraphale said and then miracled one anyway. Crowley had his moments of idiotic confidence and this was one of them, so he took Aziraphale’s hand and led him to the bed. 

______ _ _

_ Just once, he thought,  _ just this once _ . And committed his worst offence. Like a thief, he leaned forward quickly, desperately, and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale gasped in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. This couldn’t have come as a surprise to him, for millenia Crowley had been painfully obvious. For millenia, he had been rejected at every turn. But this one time – this last time – Aziraphale decided to indulge him, to humour him, and kissed him back.  Crowley had decided to take and Aziraphale seemed to have decided to  _ give. __

________ _ _ _ _

It was a last wish fulfilled.

________ _ _ _ _

It was everything Crowley had ever wanted, nothing like he had wanted it.

________ _ _ _ _

It was Crowley’s sweetest regret.

________ _ _ _ _

“Oh,” Aziraphale said after he pulled away and Crowley had no idea how to interpret it. He swallowed heavily.

________ _ _ _ _

“We can’t miracle our way out of this one,” he said softly. No matter how much he wanted to pretend they had forever on this bed, in this small room, reality looked different. “I don’t have enough energy to teleport. If you do anything, they’ll know. It’ll show up in the paper work. The thing with the shackles will arleady be hard to explain.”

________ _ _ _ _

“Then what do you expect me to do?” Aziraphale said, his voice out of control.

________ _ _ _ _

“They expect you to kill me, angel,” Crowley said as neutrally as possible.

________ _ _ _ _

“So?”  
“So… just make it quick.”

________ _ _ _ _

Crowley hoped Aziraphale knew how serious he was. There was no way out of this. (He wasn’t sure he wanted a way out of this.)

________ _ _ _ _

“ _No_ ,” Aziraphale said. “No. No. Out of the question.”

________ _ _ _ _

Right. It would be hard to make a murderer out of someone like Aziraphale. So this would be his last temptation.

________ _ _ _ _

“Listen,” he started in his softest temptation voice. “We both know you never really wanted to get all mixed up with - with the likes of me. You’re not going to give up on being an outstanding angel with a gold star now, are you?” (It would be a little late for that.) “Gabriel and his little band of angels is standing outside that door just waiting for you to do it. They’ll come in and expect to find my remains.”  
He had tempted Aziraphale to kill before, back when they had still tried to stop the Antichrist. Surely he could do it again?  
“I would never -” Aziraphale said and was too overwhelmed to speak.

________ _ _ _ _

Of course Aziraphale would never, he was bloody Aziraphale. Why did he change his mind about the Antichrist? Right, because he was the Antichrist and about to destroy the whole world. So upping the ante it is.

________ _ _ _ _

“I’ve changed, you know,” Crowley said, drenching his voice in bitter sadness that was only partly faked. “The War changed all of us. I’ve… killed.” He tried very hard to sound the way he would if he had committed atrocities in the War. “I’ve ripped angels’ wings from their backs. I set traps of Hellfire for them. I would have done anything to survive.”  
“No. Stop – stop this immediately. You wanted to run. You told me you did.”  
“Yeah, but it was a little late for that, wasn’t it? I was caught in the crossfire.”  
Aziraphale didn’t believe a word he was saying. Crowley started to panic, which is never a good state to lie in.

________ _ _ _ _

“At first, I did it just to survive, but then… my demonic instinct kicked in. I started to like it. I wanted to burn every single one of them. For what they did to me. For ruining everything. I wanted to burn all of Heaven. And I did – I burned so many and I didn’t even care.”  
“You’ve lied better before,” Aziraphale said almost angrily. “Do you really think I would believe that?”

________ _ _ _ _

The fight drained out of Crowley, but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

________ _ _ _ _

“It would be easier if you did.”  
“Stop being so bloody…” Aziraphale seemed to search for a word. “…kind.”  
“I’m about to die, there’s no need to insult me.” Crowley drew his lips into a wonky smirk.  
“It wouldn’t even matter, you know,” Aziraphale said, “if you were telling the truth. I would understand.”

________ _ _ _ _

Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _ Was there nothing he could say… It was Aziraphale’s life on the line here. If he didn’t comply with Heaven’s orders, they’d kill him too. And Crowley couldn’t let that happen. He just couldn’t.

________ _ _ _ _

“Really,” he drawled. “Sparing me an eternity of white robes and Sandalphone playing the harp off-key, that would be a kindness.”  
“You silly demon. There is nothing you can say that would make me even consider this.”

________ _ _ _ _

Crowley sighed, feeling deeply reliefed and anxious at the same time. He cupped Aziaphale’s face with both his hands and started drawing small circles on his cheeks with his thumbs. He wanted to keep this so badly. He wanted to see another sunrise, just one. But he knew Aziraphale had made his choice, years ago, he had made it. And it was the right choice. The only choice. And Crowley was just tired. So, so tired.

________ _ _ _ _

“Just put me to sleep, angel,” he said softly and moved his hands further into Aziraphale’s hair. “You know how much I like sleeping. It won’t be so different.”

________ _ _ _ _

Aziraphale let out a quiet sob  and started to frantically shake his head.

________ _ _ _ _

“Just let me sleep,” Crowley said in a last-ditch effort to convince Aziraphale, though at this point he knew that nothing would.

________ _ _ _ _

“I can’t.”

________ _ _ _ _

Crowley felt like he was trapped in a room with no doors, like he was spinning around searching for one but there were only walls and walls and walls.  
“You’ve never chosen me before,” he said, like a statement.

________ _ _ _ _

“I should have. I _would_ have. On that day-”

________ _ _ _ _

Crowley drew his hands back.  
“You raised your  _ sword  _ at me-”  
“I was panicking, I don’t know why I did that, but I know I never would have – if you’d just stayed, I -”  
It sounded unbelievable. He’d thought about that moment so many times over the years, to hear it was different now was – dizzying. He closed his eyes, as though that could somehow keep his head from spinning.

________ _ _ _ _

“Can’t we just – run away together?” Aziraphale asked and Crowley’s eyes snapped open.

________ _ _ _ _

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” All of it was, all of it was so late. But Crowley would, of course he would. He would raise a new wold out of the ashes of the old one for Aziraphale if he could. “There’s nowhere to run to anymore.”

________ _ _ _ _

“I was looking for you, did you know that?” Aziraphale asked.  
Crowley was stunned into silence.

________ _ _ _ _

“...what?”  
“All over Earth, I was looking for you. I thought something must have happened to you. I couldn’t find you anywhere, not there, not in Heaven, not in Hell. Not on Alpha Centauri. Until the fighting stopped, I kept looking. Waiting.”  
A strange sort of joy that felt a little like pain rose up in Crowley’s chest.

________ _ _ _ _

“I was on Earth,” he said. “I didn’t try to save the world. But… I tried to save _someone_. Anyone. I’ve managed it before. Smuggled a few more people on Noah’s arch. But this time I couldn’t. It’s all gone.”

________ _ _ _ _

He’d dredged through fallen trees, through the blood, through the dead bodies. He’d kept his eyes open for a survivor. He’d found a little girl in an upside-down car, but he’d lost her. He’d lost everyone.   
“You didn’t run?”

________ _ _ _ _

Crowley was taken  aback by the question.   
“Why would I run without you?”

________ _ _ _ _

The tears glistened in Aziraphale’s eyes. He looked like this was  _ news _ to him. There was nothing new about this. It had been very clear for a very long time.

________ _ _ _ _

“You really don’t understand, do you?” Crowley said. “When they cast me out of Heaven, I thought I would never be home again.”  
“And now you’re back in Heaven?”

________ _ _ _ _

Crowley closed his eyes and wished he could be less honest about this. He wasn’t sure if Aziraphale even wanted to hear this, but now that he had started telling the truth he could hardly stop.   
“And now I’m back with  _ you,”  he said very softly. _

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“Then let’s go away,” Aziraphale said astonished. “There must be some corner of this hellish Heaven where we can have our peace.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“What about the angels?”  
“Pardon my French, but… _fuck_ the angels.”  
“Aziraphale,” delight gleamed in Crowley’s eyes, “that’s blasphemy.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“Yes, well.” Aziraphale, who had sounded very confident before, faltered. “I don’t care.”

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“Who are you and what did you do to Aziraphale?”  
“I’m just. Braver. Than I was before.”  
Crowley’s shaking fingers reached for Aziraphale’s head again. He licked his lips.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

“About that kiss…”  
Aziraphale blushed. “What about it?”  
Crowley leaned his forehead against Aziraphale’s.  
“Was that… pity, or some sort of deathbed thing-”  
“It’s _not_ your deathbed,” Aziraphale said firmly. “And… well, I thought… I thought it was…” Aziraphale’s voice got much smaller. “...well. A _love_ … thing.”  
“A love thing,” Crowley repeated and laughed, a little incredulous of the whole thing.  
He wanted time, just a little more time, so he gathered the last of his energy and _took it_. He stopped everything around them, kept them safe in a bubble outside of time.  
He rushed forward with his head recklessly, almost knocking Aziraphale over. He kissed Aziraphale – and he became a confession against his skin. He pressed a row of small kisses against Aziraphale’s jaw and wach of them was an admission. _I missed you. I need you. Look at me through a veil of tears. Let me kiss your eyelashes, let me drink your pain._ He let his lips wander all over Aziraphale’s face. _Let me kiss the ache from your heart._

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale’s chest and pushed him down onto the bed. This space between Aziraphale’s navel and his collarbones was the only holy ground that wouldn’t burn him. The thrumming of Aziraphale’s heart underneath his fingers kept him steady. He settled down half on top of Aziraphale and dropped his head on his chest. He listened to it beating.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

_ Let me rest here. Please let me rest. Let me fall asleep hearing you’re alive and as real as anyone. Let me drift from a nightmare into a dream.  
_ Aziraphale carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

_ (Just hold my hand. Just hold it.) _   
It was nearly too much to bear. Ah. So this was Aziraphale killing him. And he was as gentle as anything.  
Crowley would stop time for longer, just a little longer. Then they could flee. It was okay. As long as Aziraphale was with him, it was all okay.  His mind stopped churning. The memories fled elsewhere. Crowley reached out and entangled Aziraphale’s hand with his. He held it in his own with reverence, with the softest grip - and  then  he knew. This was how to hold a moonbeam in your hand.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Recently rewatched Good Omens and needed Crowley to suffer. Almost entirely based on that one line where Crowley tells Aziraphale what it would be like if Heaven won and he says it would be just like an eternity of 'the Sound of Music'.
> 
> I hope you liked this! I appreciate any comment and kudos :)


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